


Ellipsis

by varlovian



Category: Jack West Jr Series - Matthew Reilly, REILLY Matthew - Works, Scarecrow Series - Matthew Reilly
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Anxiety, Coda, Coping, Developing Friendships, Friendship, Gen, Guilt, Injury Recovery, Major Spoilers for Four Legendary Kingdoms, Missing Scene, Near Death Experiences, Separation Anxiety, Supportive Shane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8449993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/varlovian/pseuds/varlovian
Summary: Spoilers for 4LK. Missing scene. After their ordeal in the Games, West can't seem to let go of Scarecrow.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot was born from the wild ride that was 4LK and how it brought two of my favorite characters together.  
>   
> It didn't escape my notice that Jack was all but glued to Scarecrow's side from the moment they brought him back all the way to where they said goodbye on the airfield. I ran with that—and the implications—and here we are.  
>   
> EDIT: 08/12/2016—Made some minor adjustments to the text, restructuring certain sentences and strengthening a few words.

The airstrip was silent and empty as they landed. Jack emerged from the rear cabin—and his discussion with Hades—to find Scarecrow completing post-flight checks in the pilot’s seat.

“You should probably brush up on those lessons of yours, Captain West,” the man said with a wry smile as Jack reclaimed the seat beside him. “I can’t always be there to bail you out.”

“I know,” Jack said.

“If it’s any consolation, I’ll be hitting the Ancient History textbooks first chance I get.”

Checks complete, Scarecrow unbuckled himself from the pilot’s seat and stood. Jack’s entire body tensed like a bowstring pulled taut, a peculiar knot in his chest constricting to the point of pain.

Scarecrow stilled.

“Uh—Captain?”

Jack looked up at him, perplexed. The marine watched him carefully, studying his expression, then his eyes flickered elsewhere. Jack followed his line of sight, peering down the length of his arm, and balked at what he saw:

The metal fingers of Jack’s left hand were curled around Scarecrow’s wrist, holding him in place. He tried to loosen his grip, pull back and let him pass, but his mind rejected the thought with breathtaking vitriol. Something that felt a lot like panic crested over Jack right then, followed by a wave of dizziness, white spots blooming across his vision.

Far away, Scarecrow’s voice called to him.

“Captain.”

No response.

“West.”

Still nothing.

Mouth pursed, Scarecrow reached out with his spare hand and placed it on Jack’s shoulder in a firm but gentle grip.

“ _Jack,_ ” Scarecrow said sharply. “Breathe.”

Jack released the breath he’d been holding in a sigh that all but drained him of the last of his energy. The hard line of his body collapsed like a marionette with its strings cut, pitching him forward. Scarecrow's hand held fast to Jack's shoulder like an anchor, and in that moment was the only thing keeping him upright.

Scarecrow folded his legs into a crouch in front of Jack and ducked his head to meet his eyes. He turned his wrist, still held by Jack, but didn’t attempt to escape the hold.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey,” Jack croaked.

The spots of light had abated but the knot in Jack’s chest remained, tight, rigid and unmovable. It clenched at the mere thought of letting go.

“How are you?” Scarecrow asked.

“Terrible,” replied Jack, mouth twisted into a self-depreciating smile. He brought his free hand up to his face, rubbing at his tired eyes. “ _God,_ I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Scarecrow said quickly, “Don’t be. It happens to the best of us.”

Jack stared at Scarecrow as if seeing him for the first time. He took in the tousled, dark hair, the sharp blue eyes that were flanked by horizontal scars, on full display without his glasses, and the upward turn of his lips as he regarded Jack in turn. He still carried the vestiges of their fight, fatigues caked with blood and grime, right arm trembling slightly in the circle of Jack’s hand.

Alarmed by the thought that he was causing him further pain, Jack loosened his hold on the man but didn’t— _couldn’t_ —let go. His distress must have been obvious because Scarecrow didn’t even try to pull away. The tremor in his arm stopped.

Jack’s mouth went dry. “What about you? How are you holding up?”

Scarecrow looked down at himself, shook his head and laughed. “Honestly? I’ve been better. Despite what Mother’ll tell you, it isn’t every day I come back from the dead.”

Jack flinched at the reminder. A voice in the back of his head hissed, _your fault._

It compelled him to speak.

“Listen, Scarecrow, what happened during the Games was—”

“An occupational hazard,” Scarecrow finished.

A thoughtful look flitted over his face, there and then gone.

“So that’s what this is about then,” he said, motioning to the curl of Jack’s fingers around his wrist and the way his body leaned in to the hand on his shoulder. Then he nodded. “Alright. Makes sense.”

He looked Jack dead in the eye, the expression on his scarred face serious but kind.

“You need to listen to me very carefully, West. We weren’t given much of a choice out there, it was kill or be killed.” His lips twitched. “Or, as our luck would have it, kill or be killed and then revived.”

Jack sighed, absolutely exhausted. “I know.”

“Do you?” Scarecrow asked. “Because I’m not sure you get the message here. It _wasn’t_ your fault.”

“You weren’t the one who had to do it,” Jack said.

“And you weren’t the one who died,” he countered. “Now, I can’t make you believe me when I say it’s not your fault—that’s something you have to do yourself, with time and thought. But I will say this: I don’t blame you; I never did, and I won’t be starting now.”

Jack’s breath shook. “Thank you.”

Scarecrow released Jack to tear a scrap of paper from the flight control manual beneath the seat. He found a pen in the compartment beside it and scribbled down a series of numbers.

Scarecrow said, “I’m no stranger to guilt. I know what it can do to a person, and I won’t let that happen to you. If there’s anything these past few days have taught me, it’s that the world needs men like you.”

“And you,” Jack said.

He nodded. “And me.”

He held out the piece of paper to Jack, who stared at it for a moment.

Then slowly, carefully, he retracted his metal hand from around Scarecrow’s wrist and took it.  

 

* * *

 

Hours later, in his private cabin in the rear of the Sky Warrior _,_ Jack found the piece of paper wedged in his pants pocket.

He thought back to what Scarecrow had said to him on the airstrip, minutes before their departure.

_“If you ever need a hand, give me a call.”_

Spurred into motion, Jack walked over to his desk where his phone sat and looked to the hastily-scrawled number on the piece of paper.

Then, he punched the digits into the phone with his right hand and hit _save_.

 

_FIN_

**Author's Note:**

> RE: Missing Scene/Coda—I feel that this story keeps to the spirit of 4LK as Matt Reilly intended, especially considering we got both this line, " _His mere presence alongside Jack in these hellish trials had given Jack hope, sustenance. He had not been entirely alone in the Games, surrounded by scumbag royals and zealous champions._ " and a reference to bromance in the book itself, which is why I tagged it as a missing scene. In saying that, my little shipper heart also imagines an AU where this is pre-slash (and pre-poly, factoring in the lovely Zoe), so it's really up to each person's individual interpretation.
> 
> Any comments and kudos are, as always, greatly appreciated!


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